


Nexus/In the Fullness of Time

by Djinn



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 14:12:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8893750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djinn/pseuds/Djinn
Summary: Some events change lives forever.  But healing will happen in time.





	1. Nexus

Sulu looked out at the ribbon of light and energy. This...thing had killed Captain Kirk, and _Excelsior_ had been following it since it had left the _Enterprise_ -B and Sulu's daughter behind and made its way across space—presumably back to wherever it had come from.

"It looks so harmless," Jan said as she handed him the padd she'd been studying. "These are the last readings Demora took before the _Enterprise_ -B limped home." The look she gave him was full of sympathy—this was not the way any of them had wanted the launch to go.

"They shouldn't have called it the _Enterprise_ , Jan."

"There've been _Enterprises_ before ours; I think there will always be one. The name's not a curse, Hikaru." She smiled—a smile that he'd been waiting for years to turn just a little warmer and invite him in. But if anything, she was farther away than ever. 

He thought maybe she was out there...wherever Kirk had gone. 

Looking down at the padd, he let her escape back to her station. He was glad she was on _Excelsior_ ; she was a wonderful first officer. And an even better friend. It wasn't her fault he'd always wanted more from her.

"Sir, we're being hailed." Carruthers looked up from the communications station, surprise in his voice as he said, "It's a private shuttle, sir. Commander Chapel wishes to come aboard."

Jan's head shot up. Her eyes met Sulu's, an emotion he couldn't read filling them. She wasn't still jealous that Chris had been with Kirk all those years ago, was she? 

"I'll meet her. Tell the shuttle to stand by," he said, already rising. He saw Jan getting ready to accompany him and said casually, "Commander Rand, you have the conn." 

The strange emotion again flickered in Jan's eyes. He turned away. If she was jealous of Chris, there was nothing he could do about it.

Hurrying down to the transporter room, he nodded to the transporter chief to beam their guest over. A moment later, Chris materialized on the transporter pad.

She seemed tired, and her attempt at a smile only reinforced that sense of weariness. "Permission to come aboard, sir?" 

"Permission granted." He smiled, warmly—as warmly as he could. She looked like she could use the welcome.

She was in uniform. He hadn't been sure what to expect since she'd arrived on a private shuttle. "No Fleet ships in the area, Commander?" he asked, trying for a breezy tone as he led her out of the transporter room and to his private office.

"I'm on leave. And I was in a hurry." She looked over at him. "They still haven't found a body."

"I know." There was no need to ask who she was talking about. "I'm not sure they ever will."

"I can't believe Jim's really gone." She followed him into the room, sitting down in one of the soft chairs set up near the viewscreen. Her sigh as she settled into the cushions was full of exhaustion.

"How long since you've slept?"

"Since I left. A day and a half ago. I wasn't traveling with the most reputable group of people."

"Fast often equals shady."

"I know that." Her expression seemed to dare him to tell her she'd been stupid to hitch a ride on what was probably a smuggler's ship. 

He might have lectured her if she hadn't looked so beaten down. "You're here now," he said gently. "I can show you to guest quarters?"

"Later." She swiveled the chair around, stared out at the ribbon they were following. "Five more days?"

He nodded. Five more days and it would cross into the neutral zone and _Excelsior_ would go back to more interesting things. 

"I hate that thing."

He didn't answer, wasn't sure what to say. 

"I had to come. The _Enterprise_ was off limits, but your ship wasn't."

He frowned. Demora hadn't mentioned that the _Enterprise_ -B was under some kind of lock down.

Chris seemed to read his look. "Off limits to me, Hikaru, not to everyone. Command doesn't trust me. And they don't know I'm here. But they will soon, if they check your communications log."

"They usually don't. Just random audits."

"Some things don't change." She sighed, turning away from the viewscreen as if she couldn't stand to see the ribbon anymore.

"Why off limits?"

"Valeris was my protégé, Hikaru." Chris's face went hard. "And I was Admiral Cartwright's protégé."

He looked down.

"Command was deeply interested in what I knew of the conspiracy." 

"You were detained?"

"That's such a nice way of putting it." She swallowed hard, got up, and walked to the far side of the room, staring down at his desk. "I'm only wearing this uniform out of stubbornness. They want me gone, but I don't feel like resigning."

"Is there a reason you should leave?" 

"No. Except that I'm guilty by association." She played absently with the things on his desk. 

He pushed himself up and walked over to her. Reaching out, he barely touched her before she leaned back against him. How long had it been since they'd done this? Was it really since _Excelsior_ had been launched?

They'd been friends forever. They'd been more than friends for almost as long. More than friends, but less than lovers. "Sex buddies" was the term. He'd heard some of his colleagues call it something ruder. It wasn't an uncommon arrangement for people who spent their lives away from home and hearth. It was easier than trying to make a life with someone perpetually left behind. He'd found that out the hard way.

Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her neck. "Chris, why are you here?"

He felt the sob shake her before he heard it. "The last time I saw Jim...it was awful. I'd just been released from detention, and I ran into him in the corridors. I yelled at him, Hikaru. For not getting me out." She sobbed again. "He didn't trust me enough to get me out."

"I'm sorry." He held her tighter and let her cry. 

It was hard to picture Chris and Kirk being so at odds. They'd become close during the mission after the V'ger encounter. It had surprised everyone at first that they were together, but they'd seemed so much in love that no one had begrudged them their happiness.

No one but Jan. She'd never cared if Chris slept with Sulu, but sleeping with Kirk had been another story. It had hurt Sulu a little—okay, a lot—to know that he would always rank behind Kirk with Jan. Far, far behind.

It had shocked him when Chris and Kirk had broken up after the _Enterprise_ was transferred to the Academy as a training ship. Many from the crew had elected to join the Academy ranks—to stay together and to stay close to the _Enterprise_. Chris had moved on, though. To Emergency Ops, where she'd become a star. Her career was going straight up, and Sulu supposed Kirk had not been easy to live with once back on solid ground, especially not when he had seemed so miserable and Chris had seemed so happy in her new position.

"Were you still in love with him?"

She shrugged, wiping at her eyes. "What difference does it make now?"

"I don't know." 

Turning, she stared up at him. "How's Jan taking it?"

"Pretty much like you'd expect." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. He'd idolized Kirk, but he'd spent most of his life jealous of the man's hold on the woman he was crazy about.

"Have you told her how you feel?"

He nodded. He'd told her several times. Each time had been after a serious bout of alcohol. He didn't drink as a rule. Mostly because booze made him stupid enough to blurt out truths that Jan didn't want to hear. 

Chris shook her head. "She's an idiot."

"No, she's not. She's just Jan." He knew his smile would be the twisted, sad one that told way too much to anyone who really knew him. And Chris really knew him.

But she let it go. Instead she leaned in and kissed him softly on the mouth. "So, if Jan's still being stupid, do you have a special friend already on board, Captain?"

He managed to give her a stern look, ignoring how her lips made him feel. "I do not."

"Want a temporary one?"

He nodded, pulling her back for a longer kiss. When he drew away, she buried her face in his neck while pulling him close. She wasn't crying, but he could tell she was close to breaking down. 

"I've missed you," he murmured. It wasn't a lie. They'd always been compatible. Solid, easy friends who occasionally fell into bed together. 

"I've missed you too. And I needed this. It was sheer self-indulgence, and I'll get in trouble for it, and you might too, but I needed to be held."

"It's okay." He kissed her hair. "It's nice to be needed."

##

Rand walked down the corridor toward the guest quarters. She felt a strange reluctance to keep going, wanted to turn around and run back to her deck.

Christine scared her. Or maybe it was just the envy she felt that scared her. Christine had loved Kirk and he had loved her back. And Hikaru...

Rand sighed. What Hikaru did with Christine was his own business. Anything Hikaru did was his own business. Wasn't that what she'd been telling him for so long?

Didn't she mean it?

"Janice?" Christine's voice came from behind her, not from the door to her quarters. 

Turning, she saw Christine coming down the corridor, a mess tray in her hands. 

"Come in if you don't mind watching me eat," Christine said, her voice a mix of friendly and cautious.

"I didn't expect you to show up on _Excelsior_."

"No reason you should have." Christine's tone was sharp.

"I mean, you could have told me you were on your way. We're friends."

Christine shot her a look but didn't say anything. She set the tray down at the table and sat down, looking up at Rand. 

"Eat. Before it gets cold."

"Too late for that. It was cold when I got it." 

Rand realized that Christine had never fallen out of the Emergency Ops habit of ordering food that could weather a crisis, something that could be set aside without going bad or getting stale. "You can take the girl out of Emergency Ops..."

Christine shot her another sharp look. "You've still got ties. I know you know what happened to me."

"I know they questioned you."

"Questioned me? I was 'detained,' Janice. For two months."

Rand looked down. "I didn't know it was for that long." She'd never checked to see. It had never occurred to her to check. "Why so long?"

"Valeris. You were right about her."

Rand had never warmed up to the young Vulcan woman. But then Valeris had never wooed her the way she had Christine. Rand had never been the star in Emergency Ops that Christine had been. And Rand suspected that Valeris had made it her business to know who the stars were.

"And I was too close to Matthew." Christine's face changed as she mentioned Admiral Cartwright. 

He'd died while in custody. Some said suicide, others were sure that he'd been killed. 

Rand decided not to bring that up. "You were always closer to him than I was." 

"Some say I got where I was by being close to him. That I was pulled along on his coattails." Christine studied her, as if trying to read what was underneath the expression Rand was trying to keep bland. "Some say I got ahead by riding other parts of him."

"Did you?" The question was out before Rand could stop it. She could feel herself blushing.

"No. And if you need to ask, you don't know me very well."

"I don't mean you got ahead that way. But did you sleep with him? I mean for fun?"

"No." Christine started to eat, spearing the food with sharp, angry thrusts of the fork.

"You sleep with Hikaru for fun."

"Since when do you care what I do with Hikaru?"

"I don't." Rand looked down again. 

She didn't care. She didn't care what Christine and Hikaru had done in the past. And she didn't care what they were going to do in the future—the very near future probably. Was he on his way now? 

"Then you won't mind if I do it again." There was more hurt than anger in Christine's voice. 

"Do what you want." Rand sighed. 

Hikaru and Christine didn't need her permission to do what they wanted to do. And that they were going to do it had been clear the minute Hikaru told Rand to stay put on the bridge while he went to welcome Christine alone.

"We haven't talked about the captain," Rand said, unsure why she was in such a masochistic mood.

"Jim." Christine didn't look up.

Rand nodded. She never referred to him that way, even if she'd breathed the name in hundreds of fantasies over the years. 

Christine put the fork down. "He's dead. What more is there to talk about?" She stabbed into her meal again, then just stared at the piece of cheese she'd trapped. "I wasn't with him, Janice. I haven't been with him for years."

Rand was about to turn to go, when she realized Christine's eyes had filled with tears. "Do you wish you still were?" she asked gently.

"What do you think?" The comment would have been sharp, if there hadn't been such a note of self-deprecation in Christine's voice. 

Finally, her old friend was peeking out of this harder, older woman Christine had become. Rand could almost see the Christine she'd palled around with, the one who'd heard her whispered longings about Kirk, who'd shared her own fantasies about Spock. Those shared secrets had stopped the day Christine had taken up with Kirk.

The day Rand had started to hate her. 

It wasn't fair; it wasn't Christine's fault. It had become painfully obvious to Rand that no matter what she did, Kirk wasn't going to fall in love with her, no matter how cute she was or how perky she acted. It just hurt that he'd turned to her friend instead. A friend she'd never thought would be a rival. If anyone had asked her, she'd have picked Uhura as the one to snag him away, not sweet little Christine.

There wasn't much that was sweet about Christine anymore.

But then there wasn't much that was cute or perky about Rand anymore either. They'd both changed. She shouldn't hold that against her.

"I'm sorry." She watched Christine. 

Her friend nodded but didn't look up.

"I'll let you eat in peace."

Another nod.

Rand walked out and saw Hikaru coming down the corridor. He looked guilty as he saw her. 

"You two catching up?" His eyes met hers, but slid away quickly.

"I guess you could call it that." 

He looked at her, his gaze not moving away anymore but holding hers firmly. As if he was asking her to tell him not to go in. To give him a reason not to go in.

She wasn't going to do that. Turning to go, she felt his hand on her arm.

"Jan...?"

"Just go in, Hikaru. She's waiting for you." She gave him the look that had turned him away all these years. The look of a friend and colleague—and nothing more.

Something in his expression changed, died. She swallowed hard and wanted to say she was sorry but didn't know what it was she should be sorry for. So, he loved her. That was his problem.

So what if he wanted to sleep with a woman who had been her best friend once upon a time? That was old news. She'd lived through it with the man she loved, she could survive it happening with a man she only liked. 

Turning, she walked away slowly. Until she rounded the corner, and then she fled.

##

Spock's private shuttle approached _Excelsior_ , the big ship looming above him. It lacked the pleasing lines of the _Enterprise_ —Jim's _Enterprise_ , not Harriman's. Spock had never understood why Command had selected Harriman for the center seat. With so many other captains in the Fleet, he had seemed an odd choice.

Jim would no doubt agree. 

Spock fought back the stab of pain he felt, and the stab of guilt. He should have been there. He should have been at his friend's side. Maybe Jim would have survived. Or at least not died alone.

Spock allowed himself the indulgence of a sigh. The shuttle was empty save for him; there was no one to hear him express so much with only the release of breath. 

Jim dead. Valeris betraying Spock. Spock and Christine. As he piloted his shuttle, he knew that Christine was somewhere on board, drawn to this ship as surely as he was.

It was not magic. Not some new-found sympathy with her that told him. It was the calm determination he had read in her when he'd melded with her back at Command—the meld that had finally convinced them to let her go. She loved Jim still—and had a long relationship with Sulu that transcended the friendship Spock had thought had been the only thing between them

He imagined she'd wanted to look for Jim, but others had already tried and too much time had passed for even a man as determined to survive as Jim to still be alive. No, Spock's friend and Christine's lover was gone. Swallowed up by space and fire and the energy ribbon. His body no doubt pulverized by the impact or consumed by the immense power of the ribbon.

Jim was dead, and he wasn't coming back, no matter how much they wanted him to.

Again the sharp cut of emotion. Pain, guilt, love still. His best friend was dead. He'd always known he would outlive him, but he'd expected the moment of death to come later. He should have known better—Jim would not have wanted to die in bed.

But he'd died alone. Just like he said he would. All alone working to save someone else's _Enterprise_.

Spock closed his eyes, seeking control before shutting down the engines and opening the hatch. He was surprised to see a Vulcan waiting for him. 

"Sir, it is an honor to welcome you aboard. I am Ensign Tuvok. Commander Rand sent me down. She thought you would welcome the company of another Vulcan."

Rand did not know him very well if she thought that. Especially after Valeris. "Where is Captain Sulu?" Spock knew the answer to that; Sulu was no doubt with Christine.

"I am not sure, sir. I will find him—"

Spock waved the younger man's efforts. "I will find him later. Please show me to guest quarters."

Tuvok seemed annoyed. He didn't betray it the way a human would have, but Spock could read that emotion from him nonetheless. 

"Is something wrong, Ensign?"

"No, sir." He motioned for Spock to leave the shuttle bay.

"Has Commander Chapel arrived?" Spock saw Tuvok's seeming annoyance change to visible disapproval. "You have an opinion about the commander?"

Tuvok turned to study him. "She was a friend of Valeris."

Spock let an eyebrow rise and wondered what Tuvok would infer from that. "I too was a friend of Valeris, Ensign. Do you disapprove of me as well?"

"Sir, no sir. I just meant..." For a Vulcan, the young man was stumbling over his tongue like the greenest human crewman. 

"Good." Spock walked past him. "If you could take me to my quarters it would be most acceptable."

Tuvok led him very quickly to a lift and rode in silence for a moment. "Sir, may I speak plainly?"

"I thought you had been, Tuvok." Spock turned to study the man. Had he really been as green as this young Vulcan?

"Sir, we all detest what Valeris did. I know you were not part of the conspiracy. But the human woman..."

"The human woman was not involved. I know this to be a fact." Spock's voice was tight. He felt an odd impatience with Tuvok, which wasn't fair. He was not the only member of Starfleet who had doubted Christine's innocence. But Spock wasn't used to being challenged. His earlier comment should have stopped this line of conversation.

"As you wish, sir." Tuvok was giving up without giving ground, and ignored the look Spock turned on him. "These are your quarters, sir. If that will be all?"

"Thank you for your assistance." He did not sound at all thankful, and he knew it.

Tuvok bowed his head and was gone. Spock set his small bag down upon the bed, then obtained Christine's location from the computer. Walking a few doors down the corridor, he reached for the chime, ringing it once, then again when Christine did not answer. 

Was she out, or was she occupied? He was about to turn away, when the door opened.

Judging from the state of Christine's hair and makeup, she and Sulu, who was sitting at her table, had not been in the middle of making love. 

"Wow. It's old home week. Did you bring the rest of the gang?" Her voice was not entirely friendly.

"I am alone." Spock pushed past her gently.

"Come on in." Moving to the table, Christine picked up the remnants of what looked like her dinner and took them into the head, presumably to dispose of them in the recycler.

Sulu smiled, but there was something off in his expression. Spock guessed that he did not like being interrupted. Even by an old friend. Perhaps especially by an old friend.

"I didn't expect to have so many guests," Sulu said quietly.

Spock stared out the viewscreen at the ribbon. "I believe both Commander Chapel and I had the irrational need to view with our own eyes the phenomenon that killed Jim." He dropped his voice. "Perhaps Christine also had the need to see you again."

Sulu looked surprised. "Maybe so."

"I can speak with her later if you had...activities planned?" Spock saw Sulu's eyes widen with surprise. Had Sulu thought he'd come to speak with him?

Christine came out of the head, her eyes narrowing as Sulu pushed up from the chair and walked to the door. 

"I'll be in my quarters," he told her. "I can come back when you're done...if you want."

Spock looked over at her and saw her sigh as she nodded. He wondered if she would want to see Sulu later now that he was here. He'd seen lingering attraction to himself in their meld along with all the other things he'd learned. Establishing her innocence had been the paramount thing at the time, but a meld as intense as the one he'd had to use gave a very wide reach. Many things were caught in the net as he delved in her memories with her own permission. Things he'd expected to see and some he hadn't.

Once Sulu was gone, Spock sat down at the table.

"Make yourself at home," she said, the sarcasm not surprising him. It was her shield, and he thought it probably had been ever since she had been detained.

He gestured to the chair opposite him. "Sit. Please."

She did so, dropping more heavily than he expected into the chair.

"You are exhausted." 

She didn't argue, just nodded. "I was about to go to bed."

"Yes. I gathered that."

She sighed. "What didn't you read in that meld, Spock?"

"Very little."

She nodded, as if not surprised. "Did I say thank you for getting me out of there?"

"You did."

"Good." She rubbed her hands across her eyes, the way Jim used to. "I miss him, Spock."

He knew she was not referring to Sulu's having just left her. "I know. I too miss him."

"Neither of us was with him. Why weren't we with him?" She met his eyes and whispered, "Valeris."

"Yes. Valeris." He had gone back to Qo'noS, letting the work that needed to be done on the Klingon homeworld exorcise his anger at a woman he'd been in love with. 

A woman who Christine had also been in love with. 

"You haven't told anyone, have you?" She reached over, taking his hand.

It did not occur to him to stop her from touching him. He let her twine her fingers with his. "I have not."

"If she hadn't been so fanatical about privacy..." She let go of his hand. "I thought it was just because she was a Vulcan. I didn't know she was seducing you at the same time." 

"She used us both."

"Yes, she did." Christine looked up at him. "And she was so good at it."

"She knew what we both wanted. A Vulcan who would want us—a full Vulcan."

Her mouth quirked up, a sardonic expression that resonated with him. "Oh, she was a master at manipulation, Spock." Her eyes met his. "And we were probably easy marks."

"We undoubtedly were." He'd had occasion to reflect on this during the months after Khitomer, as he thought about all the things he had seen in that forced meld with Valeris. Things that went far beyond just the conspiracy. He had seen her with him; he had seen her with Christine. He had felt her amusement—an un-Vulcan amusement at how easy they were to play. 

She had not loved either of them. The whole time she was making love to them, she had not cared a bit.

He reached for her hand, could feel her pulse in her fingers, could sense her pain and exhaustion and grief as their skin touched. "You never suspected she was seducing me at the same time she was your lover?" 

"I knew she looked up to you. But she was with me, why would I suspect? In bed she was..."

"Yes, I know." 

Valeris had been focused and skillful and utterly adept at making her lover feel as if nothing else existed outside of the bed he—or she—shared with her. And she had enjoyed sex with both of them. Just as she had enjoyed the idea of it being the two of them that she was using. Spock had seen in the meld that Valeris had known that Christine had loved him. She had expected to replace him in Christine's heart, and to replace Jim too. When she had not been able to, it drove her to hate Jim.

It was not that Valeris had been in love with Christine. But she was competitive. It was what had driven her to finish first in her class at the Academy. It had carried over to her personal life. She had not liked that she had not been first in Christine's heart. Or in Spock's—Jim had been first, not as a lover but still owning most of his heart.

Valeris had nearly gotten Jim killed. She had enjoyed that too.

Valeris had been laughing at them. If a Vulcan laughed.

"Do you want me to leave so you can go to Sulu?" He did not let go of her hand.

"Do you want to leave?"

"No. I would like to talk."

She laid her other hand over his. "About Jim?"

He nodded, wondering if she'd had anyone to talk to about Jim.

Her sad smile was his answer. "That'd be nice."

##

Rand watched Hikaru as he got up and walked around the bridge, talking to each of the bridge crew as was his fashion. He didn't look like a man who'd had mind-blowing sex all night. So either Christine wasn't that good, or Spock had interrupted them. Or maybe got there before they could get started.

That idea made her feel much better. 

"Sir," she said as he worked his way over to her. "Spock's requested the logs from the _Enterprise_ -B and other ships. The search mission."

"Who am I to deny Spock what he wants?" Sulu shrugged; he seemed a little annoyed. Or maybe she just wanted to see that.

"Aye, sir." She was about to ask him how his evening was, but the lift doors opened, and Christine stepped onto the bridge.

Walking over to them, Christine turned to Hikaru. "Sorry about last night. I didn't expect him to show up." She looked over at Rand, who was trying to keep a neutral expression at the news that her friend and Hikaru had not hooked up.

"So Spock showed up here for you?" Rand asked softly.

Christine nodded. But there was no excitement—nothing that would have shown that this colder version of her old pal was still in love with Spock.

Rand wondered why it was suddenly so important to her that Christine be in love with Spock. Glancing at Hikaru, she forced that thought away. She didn't care what he did. What either of them did. In bed. Together.

"So, is he staying on?" She knew her voice was way too perky at the thought.

Christine smiled, as if she knew exactly what Rand was thinking. "Until we turn back."

Rand glanced at the ribbon and saw Christine do the same. "Do you want to see our scans of it?" 

Christine nodded, taking an empty station and looking at the data Rand fed her. It almost felt like the old times in Ops. Them working together again. Easy. 

Once Kirk was out of the picture.

Hikaru watched them for a moment, then continued his circuit around the bridge. Rand didn't realize she was following him with her eyes, until Christine murmured, "You've got it bad, Janice."

"I don't." But she couldn't look away from him. There was no way she was in love with him. Or in lust. He was her friend. Sure, he loved her. But there was nothing between them.

He turned, as if feeling her eyes on him. His eyebrows went up, as if he was extremely puzzled by her interest in him. Finally, he turned away.

"Why didn't you tell me that?" Christine frowned at her, exasperation clear. "I'd have backed off if I knew you cared." Her frown deepened. "You haven't always cared, have you?"

Rand sighed. "No." Did she care now? Or was she just resenting Christine for other things and projecting that onto this?

"I'll stay away. But you need to do something about this." Christine touched the picture of the ribbon. "Life is short, Janice. So damned short." She blinked hard, then got up. "Can you send that to the computer in my quarters?"

Rand nodded as she reached out and laid her hand on Christine's arm. "I'm sorry. I know we couldn't talk about him, but I am sorry for the pain you're in."

Christine nodded, then hurried off the bridge.

Hikaru walked back over to her station. "Everything okay with her?" He looked like he was thinking of going to find out for himself.

Rand felt a rush of jealousy. Oh, holy crap. She was in love with him. "She's hurting. But there's nothing I can do. Or you either."

He looked down at her. "No?"

"No. Nothing." She put a lot of emphasis on that last word. "She's got Spock."

"I don't know about that."

Rand suddenly had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Was Sulu in love with Christine? "I think I'd know. He followed her clear out here. To what? Stare at the ribbon of death? I don't think so."

"You seem unusually vehement about that." His expression was one of carefully controlled hope.

"I am." Her heart was beating crazily, as if it was going to beat out of her chest. She gave him her best smile. The one she'd tried to win Kirk with and never even come close.

His expression cleared, but then a frown ruined the happiness that had taken over his face for a moment. "Why? Why now?"

She shook her head and knew her look was sheepish. "Life is short. And I'm an idiot?"

He grinned. "Well..."

She laughed softly. "Get back to work, mister." Then she looked up at him, staring at him intently. "This is the part where you ask me to dinner."

"It is?"

"Yes it is. But to speed up the process, I'm going to just pretend that you already asked. And I said yes. Stop by after shift."

"Because life is short?"

She could tell he was completely confused by her sudden about-face. "I'll give you more personal reasons at dinner...or after." One side of her mouth tipped up into a crooked smile. One she could tell he liked because he smiled too. 

"Okay, then." He hurried to his chair, as if afraid she'd change her mind if he stayed there too long.

##

From deep within his meditations, Spock heard his door chime. He rose swiftly to full consciousness, pushing himself up to his feet and fighting the dizziness that always accompanied such a hasty return to reality. "Come."

Christine walked in. He could tell she had been crying.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded, then took in the mat on the floor, the small flame of the lamp. "I'm disturbing you."

"If that were the case, I would ask you to leave."

She smiled, a knowing "been there" smile. "That's true. You never had any trouble telling me to get lost in the past." She eased by him and seemed to be trying to pace the small quarters.

"Would you like to walk?"

She nodded gratefully and followed him out of the quarters and down the corridor to the lift. When it opened, Ensign Tuvok was inside with two other crew members. Spock saw his face register the same disapproval he'd shown before. Christine did not appear to notice.

They got out before Tuvok and the others, leaving the lift to them as Christine led him to the observation lounge. The ribbon swam in front of them. 

"Do you think it's pretty?" she asked, choosing seats that were far away from anyone else.

"It has an inherent attractiveness. But any emotional response I have to it is one of hatred."

She looked at him in surprise.

"Vulcans can hate. We usually do not admit to it, however."

"Do you hate Valeris?"

He sighed and saw her surprise at that too. "I have tried to ease my feelings for her. Both hate and love still war inside me."

She nodded, and he supposed she might be the only other person who could understand the complicated range of emotions he felt for Valeris.

They sat in silence. Not an uneasy one, but one filled with shared sorrows and pain.

"She gave really good backrubs," Christine said after a few minutes.

"Yes. She was quite skilled."

"Oh, yeah." Christine looked over at him, and laughed softly. "This is so weird."

"Indeed."

Christine glanced around, and he followed her gaze. When it was clear that she was satisfied that they had their part of the lounge to themselves, she leaned her head against his shoulder, barely touching him. "Is this okay?"

It should not have been all right. But her touch was a comfort. "Yes."

"I saw the look that ensign gave me. It made you mad."

He was startled. Both because she'd noticed, but also that she'd been able to read him.

"I was with Valeris for two years, Spock. I got really good at translating all those versions of blank face."

"I had not considered that."

"Does that ensign think I'm guilty, somehow?"

He decided not to lie to her. "I believe so." He had softened it even so. He did not believe Tuvok suspected her; he knew it.

"He's not the only one, Spock."

"You were a victim no less than Jim or I."

"Or Gorkon." She eased away, the need for touch apparently over. Or else she was thinking of his comfort. "Do you mind if I change the subject, Spock? I don't want to think about her, or what she and Matthew did."

"I do not either." It was odd being so in tune with her. It was not how things had ever been between them in the past.

"I don't want to talk about Jim, either."

"I will talk about whatever you wish." He touched her hand, just long enough to let her know he was serious.

And long enough to feel her interest in him. Subtle, half-swallowed by pain and anger, but there nonetheless. He suspected something similar was growing in him. 

It was entirely unexpected.

"What's next for you?" she asked softly. "A ship of your own?"

"No." The answer came quickly. Forced out by emotion he was not expecting. "Not a ship." Never a ship. Ships went with Jim. Ships were in his past.

"What then?"

Starfleet diplomatic had been making overtures for some time. Maybe it was time to switch disciplines permanently?

She waited, not pressing him for an answer. Her eyes were fixed on the ribbon.

"I am considering transferring to diplomatic."

She smiled gently. "A good fit, I think."

"And I suspect that it will please my father greatly if I do so."

"I bet you're right." Her smile grew, and he remembered that she had forged her own relationship with his father during her years in Emergency Operations. Sarek had always spoken highly of her.

"And you?" he asked. "What will you do?"

"I don't know." Her smile faded; her voice was bleak.

"You are finished with Emergency Operations?"

"They're finished with me." She looked at him, her eyes hard but filled with what he knew to be only realism about her situation. "Matthew is a black mark against me. Valeris too. And even Jim in some quarters. I make people nervous or I make them mad. I should probably resign and go into private practice. I'm still a doctor."

"Do not resign." He was surprised at how quickly he said that. How strongly he felt it. Starfleet could not afford to lose her. Her only crime was loving not wisely but too well as the old saying went. 

The same could be said of him. 

"What should I do then?"

"I will need a staff. You could be a part of that."

She laughed. 

"I am quite serious." He felt a twinge of annoyance that she was not taking what he said with the proper amount of consideration.

"You are?" She sighed. "Pity is nice, but it will wear off and then you'll regret ever offering."

"I could list the skills you would bring, the attributes you possess that I would value in a member of my team?"

"Would you? My self-esteem could use a boost." She moved closer. She didn't lay her head on his shoulder this time, but her arm pressed against him. 

He found it oddly comforting. "You are accustomed to working in a crisis environment. You have encountered and dealt with many of the eventualities that will arise. You are both a scientist and a healer, and as such should offer a unique perspective. You are dedicated, persevering, and exercise excellent judgment." He saw her smirk and let his own lips tip up slightly. "Except, perhaps, in matters of the heart."

She conceded with a nod, then she cocked her head and said, "I don't know, though. Valeris was only one out of how many good choices?"

He suddenly wondered how many lovers she'd had over the years. Certainly more than he'd had. "Come with me," he said quietly. 

"You're sure?"

"Yes." Diplomatic was not aware of his plans. They might tell him to wait. On the other hand, he had a history of getting what he wanted. 

"You haven't even talked to Diplomatic have you?"

"I have not."

She laughed again, and her arm pressed harder against him. "Let me know how that goes."

"Jim would want me to look out for you."

He could feel her tense, then she pulled away, but not before he sensed a rush of sadness from her. Sadness and guilt. 

"I don't think he would, Spock." 

He looked over at her and saw that she was crying. But she brushed the tears away, seemed to stop any more from falling by sheer force of will.

"Why would he not want that? He loved you."

"Yes. Past tense." She looked down. "He moved on. He had Antonia. And then Carol after David died."

"That did not last long."

"Long enough." She sounded angry and hurt, and he was not sure what to say to make it better.

"Spock, the things I said to him. They were hateful."

"When?"

"The last time I saw him. A few weeks before he died. I ran into him at Command after I'd been released. I was so mad at him. I yelled at him. He could have gotten me out of there. But he didn't."

"He did not know if he could trust you."

"Why didn't he know that?" But she looked down as if she understood. Valeris had warped them all.

"I believe that he loved you deeply, even if your relationship was over."

"And I believe that you're a hopeless romantic, Spock."

He let a single eyebrow show her what he thought of that statement.

She leaned closer, and he touched her hand. Soon her shoulder pressed against his again. "I feel like someone cut my heart out, Spock. And I don't know if they took all of it or just the part that Valeris and Jim owned."

He pressed against her, trying to offer some comfort. But he was not sure he could because he felt the same way. As if there was an empty space in his chest. A space that was indeed shaped like Valeris and Jim.

"You never loved me," Christine said.

"That is true." He kept his voice as gentle as he could. "But I respect your abilities. And I will try not to hurt you." There was more he was feeling, but he thought it premature to admit to it. And the feelings confused him. Better to let them lie to ripen or not as they would.

"That sounds pretty damn good about now." She looked over at him, giving him a sad smile. "If you want me to go with you, I will."

He nodded. It was a good solution. She would indeed be an asset to him in his work. And together...he was not sure what, if anything, he wanted from her. All he knew was that being with her gave him a small measure of the peace he had not found any other way since Valeris had betrayed him.

##

Sulu watched as Jan finished her meal. They'd both chosen light dinners. She'd laughed when she saw his tray—a husky, sexy laugh that he'd never heard before.

He could barely eat.

He saw Chris come in with Spock. They looked strangely right together. He saw her bump against Spock's arm when a crewwoman pushed past her. Spock reached out to steady her, and she smiled up at him. A small smile, but a real one.

Jan followed his gaze, then turned back as if trying to decide why he was so interested. "I've never asked if you're in love with her."

"No. You never have." It was mean, but she'd been rejecting him for so long that he didn't mind seeing her squirm for a moment. "I love her. In love with her? No."

"Why not?"

"I'm in love with someone else. Have been forever."

Jan smiled—in relief, he thought. "Anyone I know?"

He nodded slowly and saw her smile grow. 

Turning to watch Spock and Chris, she said, "You think they're together?"

Sulu shrugged.

"They look together." Jan shook her head. "Wouldn't it be funny if after all this time, he finally fell for her?"

"I don't think it would be funny." He saw her surprise and continued before she could say anything. "I think it would be nice." 

Her look was sad. "I'm not very nice sometimes, Hikaru."

"You think I don't know that?" He grinned at her. "I like you anyway." He pushed his tray away. "I just wish you'd stop resenting her for having what you wanted."

Her lips tightened. He knew he should probably let this go, but they needed to talk about it. They needed to talk about Kirk. They never did. Talking about him was taboo.

"I don't resent—"

"Don't lie to me. I know you better than that." He kept his voice low, so only she could hear. 

She glared at him a moment, and he waited her out.

"Oh, fine." She said it with such irritation that he laughed. "Can we go now?"

Apparently they still weren't going to talk about Kirk. Oh, well. Small steps.

He followed Jan to the recycler, dumping his tray. Turning, he saw Spock and Chris walking toward them.

"Captain Sulu," Spock said easily. "Commander Chapel and I will be leaving tomorrow."

"You will?" He shot a look at Chris 

She smiled, a more genuine smile than he'd seen since she arrived. It would be ironic if Spock turned out to be the only person who could bring back the sweet smile he remembered from years back. 

"I'm going to be working for Spock. In diplomatic." She looked as surprised at the news as Sulu was.

Spock nodded. "I am being reassigned effective immediately. The commander is as well."

Sulu nodded, admiring the way Spock seemed to always get his way with Command. Of course, it helped your case considerably to be a living legend. "It's been a pleasure hosting you. You sure you don't want to stay until the ribbon heads into the neutral zone?"

"The ribbon can go to hell," Chris said.

"I find myself in agreement with Commander Chapel. If Vulcans had a hell, I would wish the ribbon to reside there." He let an eyebrow punctuate the unexpected sentiment. 

Chris turned to Spock. "I think Hikaru and Janice were just leaving." She winked at them both.

Sulu could feel himself blushing. Jan looked fine. Jan looked more than fine. He suddenly, desperately wanted out of the mess.

Amazingly, Spock seemed to get Chris's drift. "We will not keep you. Live long and prosper, Captain Sulu, Commander Rand."

"You do the same," Jan said, with a big smile for both Spock and Chris as she led Sulu out of the mess.

They were silent in the lift, walking down the hall. 

"My place," she said softly.

Sulu didn't argue. There was plenty of time to try out his quarters later. Following her into her quarters, he stopped and watched her move across the room. Suddenly, he was filled with nerves. What if he wasn't any good? What if he bored her?

She looked down. "You've wanted this from me for so long. What if it wasn't worth waiting for?" 

He smiled. He hadn't expected her to have the same kind of doubts as he did. He began to cross the room. "It'll be worth it."

She moved toward him. "You're sure?"

"Positive." He caught her up, pulling her close, his hands running down her back and her arms and everywhere he'd ever wanted to touch her. He heard her moan as their kiss deepened, his mouth opening. He felt his knees trembling. He'd never wanted anyone the way he wanted Jan.

He'd never loved anyone the way he loved Jan.

She pushed him to her bed, already pulling off his uniform, then her own. He'd been afraid that she'd realize this was a mistake, that she'd stop it, or even worse just go along. But she was giving him everything he'd ever wanted: passion and love and esteem earned by working side by side for so many years.

"Jan, I love you," he said as he let her push him onto the bed, as she crawled on top of him.

She started to say it back, and he stopped her. "No. Not till you know it for sure. I don't want an echo."

Her eyes were soft as she leaned in to kiss him. Her touch now was gentle and tender, and if this wasn't love then it was the next best thing.

"I do love you, Hikaru. I didn't realize it until this morning."

He frowned. "Why this morning."

"I was glad that you and Christine didn't sleep together." She moved closer to him, closer and closer and then oh, holy god...

"I think you like this," she said softly, her voice a purr of seduction.

He said something but wasn't sure that the words made sense. But Jan said, "Me too," and kissed him deeply, so he must have said something good.

Then he lost track of everything except Jan and her body welcoming him, her tongue and lips making him moan. He gave himself up to her, felt her do the same thing. She wasn't holding back. He had her. Finally, he had her.

After the first fires were spent, they lay curled together like spoons, both staring out at the ribbon. 

"We're going to be all right." The way she said it, it wasn't a question.

"Yes. We'll be fine."

She moaned happily, her hand tightening over his. They fell asleep for a while, bodies pressed close. Then they woke up and pressed their bodies even closer.

It was all right. It was all good. 

It was all his.


	2. In the Fullness of Time Part 1 of 2

"Have you seen this?" Christine laid the padd down carefully on Spock's table even though she wanted to slam it down.

He nearly sighed. "I saw it."

"Were you going to tell me?" She picked the padd up and began to read: "We question how Ambassador Spock can hope to help the Horgivian people when he is not astute enough to recognize a traitor in his midst."

He met her eyes and did not flinch away. "I saw no purpose in sharing it with you. This person is clearly making trouble and is seizing on your presence here only because it suits his or her purposes."

She sighed.

"Sit down, Christine, and have breakfast." He indicated the chair across from him, where another setting had been laid. 

She noticed that he'd ordered her the fruit she liked best and smiled in spite of her irritation. "Don't humor me. And I'm not making too much of this."

"Of course not." Gentle humor shone in his eyes.

"This isn't a game, Spock. You keep saying people will forget, but I've been working with you for three months now, and I don't see any signs of amnesia. When are they going to forget that I was close to Valeris and Cartwright?" Or that she'd been detained in a Federation holding facility for two months because of it? Only Spock had gotten her out; it had been his testimony that she was blameless that had set her free. And only a mind meld had proven that to him. Without his help, she might still be in there.

"It may take years, Christine."

"You didn't say that when you convinced me to come work with you."

"It is just one article."

"This time. But I see the looks we get at Command. No one is happy I'm around."

"You are exaggerating. And I am happy—or at least content." An eyebrow rose as he buttered one of the Horgivian sweet rolls. "I am, after all, a Vulcan for whom emotion is very foreign." His eyes seemed to sparkle again.

"No, you are the master diplomat, and you always know what to say to calm me down." 

He didn't say anything, just ate in good-natured silence.

Sitting down, she picked up another padd. "I've been reading the Horgivian government's claims about the destruction of the water system. I'm not sure this adds up." She called up the report. "They say that the levels of the biotoxin were point nine eight five. To get to concentrations that high, you'd need more than could be leaked from what was in the lab that was blown up by the rebels."

Spock looked over at her, waiting.

"I've done some extrapolations. The water wasn't compromised until it hit point seven eight. The lab in question had trace amounts at best of the toxin in question. I think someone added a bit of oomph to the mix. I mean, if the water was already in danger, maybe it seemed prudent to force it over into the red zone?" She handed over the report. "I find it interesting that the only water supply that was ruined was the one that fed the province where the rebels are reportedly holed up."

"It is interesting." He nodded. "I shall mention this at my meeting today with the First Minister. Perhaps it will make him more willing to acquiesce to the rebel's demands for a neutral location. If there are to be talks here, then the government must meet the rebels at least part way."

"What if they don't want to talk? What if they just want to kill them? Your being here may just be a ploy to get the rebels to show themselves and give up their position."

"That has occurred to me." He narrowed his eyes. "You learned much in Emergency Ops. I would not expect a doctor to be considering strategy." 

"Or maybe I learned it by being the big traitor?" She pouted for a moment, then pulled the bowl of fruit toward her and began to eat. 

"Is the karava melon ripe enough?"

She nodded, looking over at him and grinning as she did. "Perfect."

"Good." He went back to studying the padd, and she noticed he'd put the other one—the one with the damning letter about her—away. Somewhere it would not set her off again, no doubt. 

Smart man.

##

Spock watched those around him at Command as he walked down the corridor with Christine. In the past, he had not paid much attention to how anyone reacted to him or to the two of them. But since it appeared to bother her, he had begun to track the reaction.

And she had been right. She did get some unfriendly looks—especially from the brass. Spock looked over at her. For once, she was lost in her padd and seemed to be navigating the corridor more on instinct than anything else.

He decided not to mention his observations.

"This is interesting," she said without looking up.

"So it would appear. You have been absorbed in that since we left the staff meeting." Commander Kavinksy from Medical had given it to her after the morning meeting. 

Grinning, she closed the report and gave him her attention. "I'm sorry, did you want to talk?"

"Not particularly." 

She laughed, and he wondered if in the past she would have taken offense at such an honest—if unflattering—answer.

"Can I go back to my padd then?" she asked.

"What is the report about?"

"Containment procedures for Rigellian Fever."

"Yes, you may go back to it."

Laughing again, she pulled the report back up and resumed reading. He let her use whatever sonar got her through the corridors without colliding with anyone else—had she learned that skill in Emergency Operations? When it was time to turn into an adjacent corridor, he gently steered her to the right. She did not appear to notice.

He imagined the old Christine would have been instantly aware he had touched her—but this was not the old Christine, which was something that he was increasingly aware of. He knew he was not the old Spock. Valeris had changed them both when she had betrayed them. She had pretended to love them and left Christine's life in shambles when she'd been jailed. Left his emotions jumbled and his faith nearly torn into shreds. One woman—not even a very big one—to cause so much damage.

"Admiral Michaelson will be chairing this meeting," Spock murmured.

Christine put the padd down in a hurry and glared at him—Michaelson had been the lone voice on the review panel recommending continued detainment after Spock had testified for her. "You're telling me now?"

"Yes. I did not want you to obsess."

"Obsess? I don't obsess. Besides, he hates me."

"That may be too strong." 

The conference door came in sight; Michaelson was standing outside talking to a captain. He saw Spock and nodded, then he looked past him, completely ignoring Christine to say hello to another officer who was behind them.

"Too strong?" she muttered.

"Christine." He did not like warning her, but he also knew she was capable of saying anything if her emotions took charge. Since her detainment, she appeared to believe she had little to lose.

"I'll be good," she said, following him to seats along the wall. "You can sit at the table, Spock. You're a high enough rank."

"I will sit with you," he said calmly. He remembered when Janice Lester had taken over Jim's body during their five-year mission; Christine had sat with him like this. She had pushed past the guards and sat down on the bench next to him, in clear defiance of a trusted commanding officer she'd had no reason to rebel against. Except that she believed in Spock. 

He would do no less for her now. 

Michaelson came in, starting the meeting. The conversations died down, and he looked around the room, his eyes settling on Spock. "There's room at the table, Captain."

"I am comfortable here, sir." Spock nodded graciously, trying to show that he appreciated the invitation, even if he did not like the motives behind it. 

Michaelson's lips tightened but he let it go and sat down. As he turned to one of the other ranking officers, Spock glanced over at Christine.

"Thank you," she mouthed.

He nodded almost infinitesimally, then turned his full attention to the meeting.

##

Christine walked down the familiar corridor, could hear the noise of Ops ahead. Her heart was pounding loudly; she wondered if anyone around her could hear it. But no one seemed to be paying her any attention.

The room, as she slipped in through the back entrance, was bustling. And there were a lot of smiles. Must have had a victory somewhere—and a good one by the look of it.

She stood there a moment, remembering how it felt to be a part of this. Then several officers turned to her. 

"Christine?" Major Edmundson rushed over, his face lighting up in a way his marine commanders might frown on—it made him look about sixteen. "Good God, it's been a long time. Where have you been?"

Lieutenant Commander Wilkins smiled at her. "We'd heard you'd been transferred to diplomatic."

"It's true. I have." Christine glanced around the room. There were a few people staring at her in less than friendly ways, but for the most part, she was being ignored. "How are things?"

Edmundson rolled his eyes. "You know how it is after something like this. Lots of reg changes, policy reviews. Everyone wants to make sure another Cartwright can't happen."

"Or another Valeris," Wilkins said. "I never saw that coming. Either of them. But especially not her. She was so...competent."

Christine forced her face to remain as neutral as she could. Valeris had been far more than competent. She'd been amazing. Except for when she'd been with Jim, Christine had never felt more the focus of someone's attention as she had with Valeris. Unfortunately, Spock had been feeling the same way. Valeris had been quite the little actress.

"We tried to come see you while you were detained," Wilkins said softly. "They wouldn't let us in."

"I know." She'd heard this from several friends. But it had hurt at the time. She'd thought they'd all abandoned her.

"What they did—Christine, you know most of us don't think you had anything to do with what happened?" Edmundson cleared his throat, as if searching for something else to say.

She touched his arm, smiling. "I know, Jason."

"Wow. Never thought I'd see him in here." Wilkins nodded toward the door. 

Christine turned and saw that Spock was standing at the door, his eyes on the big board. Unlike Jim, he'd never spent much time in Ops, never seemed to feel a need to get back out into space even vicariously. "He's my new boss," she murmured.

"Well, what more do some people need, then? If he's willing to have you around...?" Wilkins looked very irritated on her behalf, and Christine felt touched.

"I appreciate the support, Maya."

"I just feel bad. You were here so long. And you were really good. And now...you're just not here? That's not fair."

"It's life, though." Christine shrugged. "And life isn't fair." 

If life were fair, Jim would be alive, and Valeris and Cartwright wouldn't have betrayed them all for a cause that made no sense. And Christine wouldn't have been stuck in that detainment center.

She laughed softly. She needed to let this anger go. Spock told her that often enough. And, as usual, he was right.

She turned to look at him and found him watching her. His expression lightened, and she had the feeling he was asking her if she was ready to go.

"I'll see you guys. Duty calls."

"How can you tell?" Edmundson asked. 

"She speaks Vulcan blank-face. Remember how well she could read Valeris?" Wilkins frowned. None of them had read Valeris very well. "I mean—"

"Don't think too hard about it. It'll make you crazy." Christine gave each of them a quick hug, which wasn't exactly regulation, but she didn't much care anymore.

By the way they hugged her back, they didn't care either.

As she joined Spock at the door, he said softly, "Exorcising demons, Christine?"

"Maybe."

He only nodded, and they walked back to his office in silence. As she got ready to turn off to go to her own office, he said, "There is a reception tonight at the Vulcan embassy. A harpist who is quite renowned will be performing. Would you like to accompany me?"

She smiled at him. "Officially? In uniform?"

"No. I am going merely as the son of the Ambassador." His lips curled up very slightly. "You do not have to wear a uniform to this. In fact, it would be preferred that you do not."

"Would it?"

He nodded slowly.

"I'd love to go."

"Excellent. I shall pick you up at seven."

"Okay." She walked away, then turned to look at him. 

He already had his head down, studying something on a padd. He looked up, his eyebrow rising. "Yes?"

Shaking her head, she said, "Nothing. Sorry. See you at seven."

Nodding, he went back to his reading.

She walked out, thankful that Sarek and Amanda had invited her to receptions at the Embassy when she was in Emergency Ops. She knew exactly what to expect—and what to wear.

The only thing that would be new would be being there with Spock.

##

Spock stood by his father and watched Christine as she navigated the room, nodding pleasantly to those around her but never seeming to pause long enough to have to talk to anyone. There were several Starfleet higher-ups at the party; he noticed that she avoided them entirely, but managed to do it in a way that seemed by chance rather than planned.

"She has suffered for her associate's crimes?" Sarek asked softly.

Spock turned to him, surprised that his father would be so sensitive to nuance.

"My son, you do not need to look at me that way. I know she was in the detention center, just as I know that it was you who arranged her release. And now she works with you. It is logical to assume you are concerned in some way for her well being."

Spock nodded, slightly shamed that his father seemed to be more tuned in than he was to what was going on. "There are some who would like to see her pay for crimes I do not believe she was involved in."

"There are always some who feel that way. Often it is those who have the most reason to be afraid of eyes turning to them who denounce the loudest."

Spock frowned. "You are referring to Michaelson?"

Sarek nodded. "Early in his career, an older cadet took an interest in him and helped him along. Can you not deduce who that older cadet might have been?"

"Cartwright."

Sarek nodded. "If Michaelson is making trouble for her, I will be happy to speak to him on her behalf."

"I do not believe that will be necessary, Father. But I appreciate the offer."

"I am...fond of Commander Chapel, Spock." Sarek let his eyebrow rise. "Although, perhaps not as fond of her as you are."

It was Spock's turn to let his eyebrow soar.

"I believe this is the first time you have brought a companion to an Embassy function." Then Sarek's expression clouded. "Other than Valeris, of course."

Spock nodded, resisting the urge to sigh softly. Why was it that Valeris always managed to insert herself into his activities? "Yes. Other than Valeris."

Christine eased between several other guests and made her way over to them. She smiled and murmured, "Thank you," as Spock handed her a glass of a Vulcan red wine he knew she liked.

"Are you enjoying the harpist?" Sarek asked her.

She looked over at the musician. "Truthfully?"

Spock was surprised to see Sarek give her a look very close to a smile. "I am used to you speaking truth to me, Commander."

She sighed. "The music is lovely. When I remember to pay attention to it, I enjoy it tremendously."

"And what has your attention so riveted that you cannot pay attention to one of Vulcan's premier musicians?" Sarek had lost the lightness. He seemed to want to draw her out; a move Spock was not sure was a good idea.

Christine did not appear to be in the mood to be drawn out. "Work, mainly. Your son keeps me very busy." She winked at Spock, and he suspected it was as much to beg forgiveness for the evasion as out of any amusement.

"Yes, he demands much from himself and those around him." 

Spock, seeing that Sarek seemed about to say more, said softly to her, "Perhaps you would like to walk in the gardens?"

She looked very relieved. "That sounds nice." As they left Sarek, she smiled softly. "There you go, rescuing me again."

"I thought a change of venue might be prudent. But you did not require rescuing from my father. He actually admitted to me that he is quite fond of you."

"Did he?" She smiled. "I'm quite fond of him, too." She sipped her wine, her arm pushing against his occasionally as they walked the torch-lit paths.

"He had some interesting insights on Michaelson."

She turned to look at him.

"Apparently, Admiral Cartwright was a friend and sponsor of his when they were both in the Academy."

"I know."

"You knew that? Why did you not tell me?"

"Because having been the victim of a witch hunt, I don't feel like starting another one. No matter how much I might despise the man." Her face was stormy, and she took a long drink from her wine.

"Perhaps you should go slowly—the wine is strong."

"It's no stronger than any other wine, Spock." Her voice was curt. "Don't you get tired of this?"

"Of what?"

"Of having to...look out for me. Having to worry about me? Because I'm sure getting tired of it." She finished her wine in one gulp.

He was glad the Embassy staff had not set up refreshment tables in the gardens; he did not think becoming intoxicated would help her mood.

A Vulcan couple walked past them, murmuring pardons as they moved gracefully by.

"What do they think of us?"

"Think?"

"You and me? Vulcan and Human?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "I am half human."

"Not what I asked." She seemed in an odd mood. Volatile and ready to fight. "We're together tonight, aren't we?"

He nodded, unwilling to put into words any sentiment that might set her off more.

"So, what do they think of that?"

"I do not know, Christine. But if you wish, I will go find them and inquire." His words came out more sarcastic than he intended, much as if he'd been sparring with Doctor McCoy. He suddenly worried that he would hurt her feelings.

But instead she just laughed. "God, Spock. When did I become such a mess?" She took his arm, the shock of her skin on his—and the rush of her emotions, which were, indeed, tangled—causing him to almost pull away. She looked up at him in alarm, letting go of him. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

He reached down and gently placed her hand back onto his arm. Resuming their walk, he said softly, "If I object to something you do, I will tell you."

"Your body language did tell me, Spock." Her tone was brusque, but she smiled, and she didn't pull away.

"To pull away was an instinctive reaction. It was not, however, the reaction I intended. You know I am unaccustomed to physical contact."

Her face twisted, and her tone was mean when she said, "Is that what you told Valeris when you were screw—"

His finger on her lips stopped her. He could feel his eyes narrowing and shook his head slowly. "Why are you attacking me, Christine?"

She pulled away from him and moved over to a bench and sat down, staring at the crushed rock of the path. "I don't know."

"Do you not wish to be here?"

"I'm glad I'm here."

He let an eyebrow lift be his counter to that statement.

"I'm mostly glad I'm here?" She smiled sheepishly. "I'm just tired, Spock. So damn tired." She did look tired—her eyes lacked their normal sparkle and were rimmed with dark purple, as if bruised.

He nodded, touching her face gently, as if he could erase the circles with his finger. "I am aware you are exhausted. You should take some leave. As I plan to do. When I go home in two weeks."

She looked down. "Yes. I should do that." 

He could tell she had not understood what he was trying to say. But he had said it very badly, so it was not entirely surprising that she had not picked up his hidden message. "I meant to say you should take leave and come with me. To Vulcan." 

"Come with you?"

He nodded. It was entirely impulsive of him to ask her to come. But he suddenly wanted her to very much. 

"Are you sure I won't be a downer?"

"No. I am not sure of that." He knew by her small smile that she could tell he was teasing her. "Will you come with me?"

"Spock. I don't know. You've done enough."

"I am not asking out of obligation. Or out of duty. I wish you to come with me."

She finally nodded, but her expression was more one of surrender than of anticipation. 

He decided not to dwell on that.

##

Christine waited with Spock in the embarkation lounge. The shuttle that the Embassy had arranged to take Sarek and his family home had been held up; their pilot was waiting for other traffic to clear the bays before it could dock to pick them up.

She felt restless, and a little cranky. Her head hurt, and she felt exposed in the lounge area. She'd felt this way since they'd let her out of the detention center—like someone was watching her, always watching her. It was odd. In the Center, she had felt as if the walls had been closing in on her. Now, free of that place, she felt like there was too much room.

"I'll be right back," she said, getting up and heading to the lavatory. She forced herself to breathe normally—she was fine. No one was watching her.

As she started to walk back to where Spock and his parents sat, she saw someone turn from the refreshment counter and felt her stomach clench as Michaelson nearly collided with her.

"Commander." His voice fairly dripped disdain.

"Ron."

He looked around, as if afraid that others would hear her call him by name. "That's Adm—"

"My mistake, Admiral." She tried to push past him.

He stopped her. "You've got support now. Powerful support. I won't take on Sarek, if that's what you're wondering?"

Frowning, she turned to him. "What are you talking about?"

He laughed. "Don't play innocent with me. You think I don't see through your affinity for things Vulcan?" He leaned in. "I don't trust you. Don't think that just because I'm backing off that I'm giving up."

She sighed. "Spock cleared me."

"Yes. And Spock was quite close to Valeris, wasn't he? Maybe Spock's not to be trusted? No one ever bothered to check that, did they? And since the man who probably knew best died on the _Enterprise_ -B, how can they?"

"Don't even—

"That was an accident, right?" His smile got even snider. "Oh, wait. You were involved with Kirk, weren't you? And those rumors...about Spock and him. Maybe the conspiracy goes far, far deeper than anyone knows."

"Jim stopped the assassination."

Michaelson nodded, shrugging as if conceding the point. "Maybe Kirk wasn't in on it. But Spock? And you?" He leaned in. "I've never known Sarek to involve himself in the affairs of a Starfleet officer before. Unless it involved getting his son or his son's friends out of hot water. And you were the one who called him in for that after Kirk stole the _Enterprise_ for Sarek's son, possibly at Sarek's request. My, how tangled is this web?"

"Why are you doing this, Ron? You were Matthew's friend."

His face clouded. "That was a long time ago."

"Just because you were his friend, doesn't mean you're guilty. It doesn't mean that any of us are."

He didn't answer, just gave her a cold smile and walked away.

She could feel a chill settle over her. She walked slowly over to where Spock and the others sat. 

Sarek stood and turned to her. "Our ship is ready." He led Amanda down the ramp.

"Spock. Maybe this isn't a good idea." She set her bag down.

He picked it up. "Christine, the ship is ready." 

She looked down and fought to not cry. Then she felt his hand on her elbow, gently steering her toward the ramp. 

"I saw you talking with Michaelson. He upset you?"

"No," she said, staring at the carpeting as it changed from red to black to gray squares. The carpet in the detention center had been the same pattern.

Michaelson wanted her to go back there. Or somewhere worse. Her and Spock and Sarek. But they'd done nothing.

"Here, sit." Spock eased her into a seat, stowing her bag and his own, before joining her, sitting close to her, as close as he'd sat that time on _Excelsior_ , when he'd convinced her to come work with him. 

She could feel his warmth even through the robe he wore and appreciated the comforting feel of him as he pressed his arm lightly against hers. "I should go."

"It is too late," he said.

And she felt the ship lurch slightly as it broke free of the spacedock and the pilot gave the impulse engines a kick.

"Christine?" Amanda's voice was gentle. "Is something wrong?"

"Michaelson." Spock looked at his father.

"I thought he would leave you alone after I..." Sarek looked at his son and seemed to take a step back even though he hadn't moved.

"Father, I asked you not to interfere."

"Yes, Spock. You did. But I was in a meeting with him, and after something he said, I felt it prudent to say something to him in private."

Christine felt as if she was underwater and could barely hear what they were saying. She pushed her head against the headrest and tried not to cry. Then she felt Spock's hand finding her own, gently squeezing and not pulling away, but tightening slowly on hers until she squeezed back. Until she held onto him as if he was keeping her from falling off the edge of a cliff.

"He won't stop," she said. "He thinks I'm guilty."

"He is wrong," Spock said, his tone brooking no argument. "And he is just one man."

She took a deep breath and was dismayed when it sounded ragged. "Let's forget it. Just forget it."

Spock turned to look at her, his hand tightening on hers again, and she suddenly felt trapped. She tugged and saw him frown slightly, but he let go of her. "Christine?"

"I'm all right. I'm just tired." She turned away, nestling against the cushion of the bulkhead. She closed her eyes and knew he was watching her, so she pretend to fall asleep.

She heard him sigh. The sound was as ragged as her own breathing.

##

"Father, if you have a moment," Spock said, as he saw his father pass his room.

"Of course, my son." Sarek moved closer to the door.

"I am uncertain why you believed it advisable to interfere in Christine's affairs, but I wish you had not."

"I thought it best." Sarek's voice was the voice of old, the father who could never be made to see any point but his own.

Spock could feel his mouth tightening. He had not wanted to bring this up at dinner for just this reason and could feel annoyance growing into something stronger. Something older.

"Oh, Spock. Do not look at me that way. Admiral Michaelson will not make trouble for Christine any longer."

"I am not certain that is true. But that is not the point that concerns me. This was a private matter, and I specifically told you that your aid was not required, yet you intervened anyway."

Sarek's eyes seemed to glimmer for a moment, the way they had when Spock was young and arguing with him. "Spock, I have been dealing with humans for far more years than you have. I know how to behave. And what is required."

"And I think you do not. And it was not your decision to make."

"Nor was it yours, Spock." His mother appeared in the hallway and pushed past Sarek. "You are acting as if Christine has no say in this matter. Did either of you think to include her in these deliberations?"

Spock looked at Sarek, who only raised an eyebrow. 

"I thought not."

"Mother, you oversimplify this."

"Spock"—his mother took his arm—"you, my dear, are not thinking clearly where she is concerned. And your father"—she glared at Sarek—"seems to always have difficulty with reason when it has to do with you." She shook her head. "Come out to the main room. Both of you. Christine will be waiting."

Spock let his mother pull him past his father. He was about to say something to lighten the mood, when he saw Christine standing at the door to her room, staring at them all. "Christine?"

"This isn't going to work. You're arguing over me."

"Oh, Christine, they'd argue over the color of the sky. Don't take it personally."

"Michaelson said..." Christine looked down. "This isn't good for any of you. To be helping me."

Spock pulled away from his mother and took a step toward Christine. "I have told you; Michaelson is one man. In a fleet of many more."

"It's not as if he's a rank ensign, Spock. He's an admiral. An admiral who wants me drummed out—or locked up."

"He is only one admiral of many."

"Not very comforting. I haven't seen any of the others rushing over to say hello lately, have you?"

"Did they before, dear?" Amanda smiled at her. "I mean, if they did, and now they're not, well, then perhaps you have a point. But if not...?"

"You've spent too much time with Vulcans," Christine said as she turned away.

Spock hurried after her, catching her arm before she could get too far. "Christine. Do not overreact."

She tore her arm away. "Don't tell me what to do." Then she rushed off.

He started to follow her, but Amanda stopped him. 

"I'll go," she said.

Spock stood in the hallway, realized his hands were clenched, and forced them to relax.

Sarek moved up to stand near him. "Your mother, at times, has made me clench my fists in just such a manner." He shared a long look with Spock. "It is a side effect of caring for a human, I believe."

Spock allowed himself a sigh.

"One also learns how to sigh quite expressively," Sarek said, with a knowing lift of his eyebrows.

"Indeed," Spock murmured.

Coming back, his mother shook her head. "She's gone out. For a walk, I think. You should go after her. And work on your apologies. Both of you."

"Both of us?" Sarek looked at Spock.

"Yes, both of you. You can also work out what it means, my husband, when our son tells you not to interfere in his or Christine's affairs. I think, for all of our future happiness's sake, that this is a discussion worth having."

"As you wish," Sarek said, and Spock looked at him in surprise.

"Concession is also a side effect," his father muttered as they walked down the hall toward the front door.


	3. In the Fullness of Time Part 2 of 2

Christine heard the door to the courtyard open, then it closed again. The steps coming toward her were unhurried and sounded too light to be Spock.

"I thought I'd find you here." Amanda moved easily through her roses, her robes swishing softly as she passed. She turned to look at Christine. "Spock and Sarek are out looking for you."

"Both of them?" Christine shook her head.

"Never underestimate the tenacity of the Vulcan male, my dear. And I may have indicated you went out the front door, not the side one. And that they both should go after you. It will give them time together and give us time. Win-win, wouldn't you say?" With a gentle smile, Amanda moved closer. "May I join you?" she said, indicating the spot next to her on the bench.

"Of course." Christine slid over slightly, making room, although she didn't need to—Amanda was so tiny. 

"I love it here." Amanda sighed softly. "I used to come here when Sarek and I were first married. It didn't look like this then, but it was still a place to hide when I needed to think." Amanda reached over and took Christine's hand in hers, never turning to look at her. "Our marriage was rocky at the start. I loved him, but he was so different. And Vulcan? I hated it here. Loathed it with every fiber of my being." She did turn, smiling slightly. "The pain is far away now, but it was real back then."

"I'm sure it was."

"But time helps, Christine. It helps in so many ways." Amanda's eyes seemed to sparkle in the low light. "Look at my son, out there searching frantically for a woman he used to flee from."

"Flee?" Christine made a face. But it was no doubt true. He most likely had fled from her.

"Well, avoided at any rate. He is not avoiding you any longer, dearest."

"I know."

"Are you in love with him?"

It took her a long time to answer. "Yes." 

Amanda laugh was brittle. "You don't have to sound so mournful about it, Christine." 

"I'm sorry." Christine grimaced; she was talking to Spock's mother, for cripe's sake. 

"It's all right. I think this is very confusing for you. And for Spock too."

"He seems fine with it. Hell bent, even." Christine gestured to the garden, then the house. "Him bringing me here is a good case in point."

"Yes, we were rather surprised. Although pleased." Amanda smiled. "You don't approve of his interest? Is it unwelcome?"

"No. I told you, I love him."

"Then what's the problem?" Amanda sounded so like Jim that Christine had to blink back tears.

"The problem is that I'm not good for him. Every time he tries to help someone, they see me, and question his judgment, his ethics. He has a suspected traitor by his side, Amanda. And he has to be above reproach."

"My dear, I know how badly Valeris hurt Spock. If he believes in you—you who are so closely linked with her and with Admiral Cartwright—then I know you must be 'above reproach,' or he would not be able to bear having you anywhere near. I know my son, Christine, and if he believes in you, then I believe in you."

Christine looked down.

"And Sarek feels the same way. He and Spock may not always agree, but he does believe in his son. And in Spock's judgment when it comes to his friends."

"Yes, look how well he did with Valeris. A woman of 'great' character," she said, embellishing Sarek's favorite compliment.

"She fooled us all. All of us, Christine. Not just you and not just Spock. It isn't as if you were one or two in a crowd of people saying, 'Beware Valeris.'"

Christine nodded, but she remembered how Janice couldn't stand Valeris. She'd always known...somehow. 

"My son is in love with you, Christine." At her look, Amanda nodded. "I know him. I know the signs. And he is not trying to hide it from us. He cares deeply for you, and you are pushing him away. It is most..."

"Ironic?"

"I was thinking more of unexpected."

"One of Spock's favorite words."

"Yes, well, he learned it from me, perhaps?" Amanda grinned. "He got something else from me. His contrariness. The more you are denied to him, the more he will fight for you."

Christine laughed. "If only I'd know that back when I was making a fool of myself over him."

"It wouldn't have worked back then. And you know what I'm talking about. He's stubborn. You have been unfairly accused. Some are telling him that it is ill conceived to associate with you. And now you are resisting—it will only make him hang on all the more." 

"I'm not sure he should."

Amanda made a face. "You've never struck me as a quitter."

"I'm not, but this is Spock who's being hurt not me."

"If he doesn't mind, why should you?"

"Maybe he's not thinking clearly."

Amanda shook her head gently. "He's a Vulcan, dear. And nowhere near the time when he might not be thinking clearly. I doubt very much that he isn't fully capable of deciding for himself what is right."

"You don't understand. I could go be a doctor. Anywhere. And they'd overlook my background—and my supposed treachery." She shook her head. "But being with Spock, I'm reminded daily by those around us how I don't quite measure up anymore."

"Ah. Finally something that is about you." Amanda's hand tightened on hers. "Do you think I'm a stranger to that? What do you think it was like coming to this planet? To wed someone of Sarek's status? Me: a lowly human, and not a particularly brilliant one. And for love? Do you have any idea how hard it was to get from one day to the next?" Amanda got up and walked to a particularly hardy bloom. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to grow roses in this soil? It takes tenacity. It takes cussed human stubbornness." She bent to smell the rose. "And it takes love."

Christine looked down.

"If you don't love my son, then go pack your bags, and I'll take you to the spaceport myself. But if you love him, Christine, then you need to fight for him." Amanda straightened up. "The way I did for Sarek all those years ago." 

Christine looked over at her. "Did he ever waver?"

"Never. Only I did, when I got tired and afraid. I know you've been through a lot. I know you're tired—and that you're afraid. You're safe here. And you're welcome." Amanda walked toward her, reaching down and setting her hands on Christine's arms, shaking her a little. "Spock is like his father, you know. Once he chooses, he does not waver." She frowned for a moment. "Well, Gol aside."

Christine laughed. "Let's consider that an aberration."

Amanda nodded. "I'll tell you a secret. It gives me a little thrill seeing my half-Vulcan son choose to love a human." She grinned, the expression a little twisted. "He hasn't done so well with the full-Vulcans."

"You're so sure that he'll do better with me?"

Amanda nodded. "A mother knows these things." She cocked her head, as if hearing things in the thin Vulcan air that Christine could not. "Spock and Sarek are back. Perhaps you should go reassure my son that you have not vanished into thin air?"

Christine smiled and got up. It was very difficult to fight this woman.

"You should reassure him well, Christine. The rooms are quite soundproof." With a wink, Amanda left her alone. 

Christine bent down and smelled the rose that Amanda had touched. It was lovely—strong, and sweet, and smelling of Earth. She sighed, then hurried into the house.

##

Spock heard the door to the courtyard open and rushed out of his room. "Mother? Did she come back?"

"She never left, Spock." Amanda smiled as Christine came into the house, through the courtyard door. 

"I was...concerned," he said.

Christine didn't meet his eyes. "I know." She pushed past him, into her bedroom. But she left the door open.

Following her in, he gently closed the door. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. She seemed to be holding herself tightly, too tightly. The way she had at the detention center when he'd come to get her out.

"You can't always save me, Spock," she said, as if she was reading his mind.

He moved closer. "I was not aware you required saving."

"I don't." She turned, and he was surprised to see that she was crying. "You need saving from me."

"I do?" He let one eyebrow go up and was grateful when she laughed through her tears.

"You do." She tried to push past him again, but this time he reached out and stopped her progress, pulling her close.

He could feel her emotions thrumming into his skin wherever he touched her. So many feelings warring inside her: love, fear, pain, grief still, and guilt. Letting go of her with one hand, he brushed back her hair, his fingers lingering on her lovely non-pointed ears.

"Why do I need saving?" he asked.

She still would not meet his eyes. "Because I'm bad for you."

"I do not think you are."

"You're not exactly objective here."

"No?"

She shook her head.

"And why is that?"

She frowned, her mouth turning down as if she was angry with him for having asked that particular question. "You know why."

"I do not. Please tell me."

She tried to shrug out of his grip, so he pulled her closer. 

"Christine?"

"You want me."

"That is correct." He nearly smiled. It was quite easy to tell her how he felt when she did the talking. "What else do I feel for you?" His tone was too light; he saw that immediately by the way she tensed.

"This isn't a damn game." 

"It is anything but a game, Christine." He pulled her closer, until their bodies touched in places that normally kept a respectable distance. 

She moaned, and he smiled, pleased at the reaction. It mirrored his own, even if he had not given voice to the shock he felt as her body rubbed along his. He forced her chin up so he could see her face. By the way she was still not looking at him, he realized she was not going to fill in the blanks any longer.

"I care about you," he said. "Deeply."

She swallowed hard. "Don't."

"Why not?" The barrage of emotions slipping through his fingertips increased. "Do you no longer love me?"

Closing her eyes, she leaned into him, her mouth lifting up to his in what he thought was an unconscious move. He felt irresistibly drawn to touch her lips with his own. The kiss was chaste—for a moment. Then she opened her mouth to let him in, and he did not try to temper what he felt, what he wanted from her.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing harder. "You did not answer my question, Christine."

"You know I love you." She pulled him back to her, kissing him with a passion he'd only ever seen in Valeris's memories. Now, this was his. Now, this was only for him.

"As I love you," he murmured, pushing her back to the bed. 

He did not intend to lose momentum with her. She might try to run again if he hesitated. He pulled off her shirt and pushed down her pants. She looked up at him, surprise in her eyes.

"I will stop if you do not wish to continue."

"That's okay." She smiled suddenly, a brilliant expression. "You can keep going."

"Perhaps, some assistance on your part...?"

She began to tear his clothes off, and he knew that if she had looked up, she would have seen a very satisfied glint in his eyes. He made short work of her underthings, could feel her doing the same to his. Then they were on her bed, skin to skin, kissing like mad things.

He had never kissed Valeris this way, although he was fairly certain Christine had. He pushed her to her back, kissing her places he'd seen that she liked in her own and Valeris's memories. She moaned, her hands grasping him in a soft way that became harder the more he touched her. When she bucked under his mouth, her cries echoing in the bedroom, he felt a surge of satisfaction—and also relief that his parents had been so insistent on soundproofing when they'd remodeled the house.

Then she was pulling him up and he did not resist, kissing her even as his body joined with hers as if making love was something they had been doing all their lives. He did moan then, the feeling one of completion and rightness. Had he been meant for this woman all this time? What life had they missed because he had run from her for so long?

She was smiling, her eyes half lidded as she kissed him again.

"Christine...I know...it has been difficult...for you." He found it hard to talk, hard to do anything but move over her.

"I had you," she said, her nails digging into his back.

Closing his eyes, he abandoned conversation, but moved his hands to the meld points, then hesitated. The meld would enhance the sex, but it might also be too much, too soon. Sometimes insight could destroy, not bring together.

He did not want to know that he was not pleasing her the way Valeris had. That she was comparing him to her or Jim or any other lover she might have had.

He started to lift his fingers away from her face, but she pushed them back down. He opened his eyes and saw her watching him, her smile growing. 

"Do it." She looked so beautiful lying underneath him, her mouth opening for his again.

He pushed his mind into her and heard her gasp at the possessive way he'd done it. Not like before, not like the gentle meld he'd used to find out the truth when she'd been in the detention center. This had been him claiming her. He let his mind wander and braced himself for truths he might not want to see.

But there was only her pleasure and her love for him beating down around him. He could feel the ghosts of the others—Valeris, Jim, more others than he'd expected. He could hear her chuckling.

"You weren't interested. Did you expect me to be a saint?"

"No. Of course not."

She laughed again—they could both tell that he had expected exactly that.

"I love you," she said, and there was a lilt in her voice and in the emotions spilling into him that had not been there before. 

"I love you," he said mind to mind, and with his voice, letting his lips follow up the theme as he kissed her, moving faster over her. He reached the peak, felt himself beginning to fall and could feel her holding him.

"Let go," she said.

And he did. Riding her almost brutally, he felt no fear from her, only exhilaration—she too had feared that he would compare her to Valeris.

He and Valeris had never...not like this. He opened his eyes and saw her grinning. 

"Welcome back," she said, kissing him softly.

A sigh was his only answer. He eased off her and felt her moving so she was cuddled against him. Pulling her closer, he wrapped himself around her, suddenly wanting to protect her, needing to protect her.

He did not realize the meld was still active until she whispered, "You can't protect me, Spock. But I love that you want to."

"If you were to marry me, they could not say anything against you."

"Yes, they could. They just wouldn't." She kissed his chest. "I won't hide behind you."

He felt a surge of emotion. "You do not wish to marry me?"

"I didn't say that." She laughed softly, a bit sadly. "But not yet. Not if it looks like I'm running away from something."

"I understand." He turned his face away and felt another emotional barrage from deep inside him. He was...disappointed?

She pulled him back so she could kiss him. "Ask me again. When the talk dies down. If you still want me then?" She stroked her hand over him, making him jump. As if reminding him why he might still want her then.

"I will still want to marry you," he said.

She laughed.

"Something is funny?"

She nodded. He tried to read her expression, but her head was against his chest, and he could not see her eyes. 

"Us. We're funny, Spock." She burrowed more firmly against him, and he realized she was crying. "All this time...and now..."

Stroking her arm gently, he enjoyed the feel of her skin against his fingers. Soft, she was as soft as he had imagined her all those years ago—when he had allowed himself to imagine what it might have been like with her. "It is..."

"Unexpected?"

He allowed a small smile. "I was thinking of ironic."

She began to laugh, and he was not sure why what he had said was funny. 

"Ironic is the better word," she said, then she pulled away from him and met his eyes. Tears were bright in her eyes, and she blinked, letting the tears fall down her cheeks.

He kissed them from her face. "We will be fine, Christine. In time, everything will be fine."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a Pollyanna, Spock?"

He knew the reference. "I am a pragmatist." He tugged at the spread, somehow managing to get it over them despite their lying on top of it.

"Right." She began to move her hand lower, lower, and then— "You're very sensitive," she said, her voice low and throaty.

He touched her in a similar place and felt her jump. "As are you, Christine." He knew that his eyes were unusually tender when he kissed her, not letting go of her, making her jump again. And again.

She didn't let go of him either, but she did bat his hand away from her long enough to kiss her way down to where she was causing so much trouble. Laughing, she did something with her mouth that Valeris had never done.

And he was glad she never had.

When she came up from under the covers, she was grinning. "Mine." Her voice was triumphant.

He nodded. He was hers. What she had done to him was hers. It was all hers.

He pushed her to her back and resumed what he had been doing. "Mine," he said, in exactly the same tone she had used.

"Forever, Spock." 

Then she gave herself over to him. His. She was his. It was ironic and unexpected.

And wonderful. 

He felt some part of him that had been in pain for a very long time finally settle down. Could sense that some part of her also relaxed—the brittle, hurt part that had risen up in the detention center although it might have been created long before that.

"We'll be fine, Spock," she said, whispering back his own words, as she curled against him.

"Yes," he said.

She had said he could not protect her, and she was right. But he could watch over her. As she drifted off to sleep, he stroked her hair and kissed her cheek. Then he just watched her for a long time before he finally let himself sleep too.

##

Christine looked across the negotiation table at Spock. He seemed to sense her eyes on him and looked up, his expression lightening enough for her to see his tenderness for her. Smiling, she bent back to her padd.

"You two need anything else?" Rand asked, peeking into the conference room.

"We are fine," Spock said.

"Okay then. We'll be at Caviosta in twenty-two hours." She grinned. "I'm hoping you'll be ready for a break before then? I'd like to steal Christine away from you, if you don't mind?"

"You will give her back?" Spock asked, his eyes bland as he looked back at Rand.

She didn't seem to know what to say. Then she burst out laughing. "I promise."

"Then I do not mind." He went back to his padd.

Christine turned to look at Rand, winking at her.

Rand mouthed, "Oh my God," to her, then left them alone.

"If you didn't want her to know about us, I'm not sure that was the way to keep the secret."

"Why would I wish to keep our relationship a secret, Christine?" He did not look up at her as he spoke.

She smiled. If he did not feel the need to look at her, it was an issue he considered not a problem. Just a statement of fact. "No reason," she murmured.

"Did you wish it to be a secret? Perhaps you wanted to forego sharing a bed tonight?" His tone was light but there was something else there—something just a little bit uncertain.

"You mean I might want to throw you over for Hikaru?"

He didn't answer, but he did look up at her.

"I think I'll stick with you."

"You have not grown tired of our relationship?"

She smiled broadly. Was it possible to get tired of several months of astoundingly good sex with a man she was crazy about? A man who appeared to be just as crazy about her—even if he expressed that a bit more diffidently than she did.

He seemed to almost smile and looked back down. "I shall take that as a no."

"You do that, Spock."

They read in silence for a while. Then he said softly, "Have you read the section on Caviostan agriculture?"

"Yep." Caviosta was one hell of a fertile planet. Their grain production alone could feel half the quadrant.

"What did you make of it?"

She took a deep breath. "I only know what I've learned from you—and picked up from the experts we had in Ops, but..."

"But...?"

"But I'd call that a bargaining chip, wouldn't you?"

He nodded, a look of deep satisfaction on his face as he met her eyes. "I would indeed."

She grinned. "I'm getting good at this."

"You have been quite skilled at this for some time. You are becoming confident."

She shot him a leer. "Wonder why that is?"

He appeared to be blushing slightly, and she was charmed. Just when she thought she knew him, he'd do something else that would make her heart melt. "I would not know, Christine. Why is that?" But he subjected her to a very thorough once-over, at least of the parts he could see.

She felt herself blushing. "Stop it or we won't get any work done."

"I did not start this."

She laughed and found herself channeling his mother—Amanda was incredibly adept at refereeing between Spock and Sarek. "But you can be the one who finishes it." 

He shot her a glance, and she laughed.

"I think Janice is with Hikaru now." Christine smiled at his expression—it was almost relieved.

"Then I wish them every happiness."

"I bet you do." 

He looked up at her. "You doubt my sincerity?"

"Not at all. I doubt your motives for that sincerity."

He nodded and looked pleased again. "You see, another diplomatic skill evidencing itself. Assessment of motive."

"Don't try to distract me, Ambassador mine."

He smiled slightly at the unexpected endearment, then forced his lips to curve back down. "Christine, you must concentrate."

"I know." She studied him as he went back to the padd. 

He seemed happy with her. Not that anyone else could probably tell. There was nothing in his posture, or his expression, to give it away. But she just felt it. He was happy. With her.

Even months later, it still struck her as ironic.

##

Spock watched Christine walk along the beach, the sun shining on her hair. She looked tired; he imagined he did also. But he had promised to bring her here if they were successful in their latest—and most arduous—mission. And they had been, so here they were. Even though they were both exhausted.

It was impossible to tell from where they were standing that halfway around Kappa Upsilon, a terrible war had raged for decades. A war they had just helped the combatants end. With talks that had led to arguments and walk-outs and finally—after two months of histrionics and posturing—to understanding and peace.

He walked out to join her by the water. She didn't turn but held her hand out for him. Taking it, he felt her squeeze gently.

"Are you as tired as I am?" she asked.

"I am."

"No, you're probably more tired. This time, you did all the work."

It was not true. She had supplied him with vital information—facts, figures, and some data he'd been surprised she'd found for him. "Did you call in favors for the order of battle information?" Her data had varied considerably from what either side or his initial Starfleet contacts had provided.

She smiled. "Maybe."

"Ops?"

She smiled again. "Maybe."

He touched her hair. "Thank you. It was crucial."

She didn't wave him off, just nodded. "I know. I was glad I could help." 

She leaned against him, and he wrapped an arm around her, not caring if anyone saw.

"Wow," she said, "you must be tired if you're going in for public displays." Turning to look at him, she kissed him. 

"And you are not above leveraging that for your own nefarious purposes, are you, Christine?" He kissed her back.

"I'm not." She seemed to sag against him. "As much as I'd like to take advantage of this new spirit of openness, do you think we could go back to our rooms and sleep?"

"Yes." He held her hand as they walked back to the shuttle and let her go only when he had to pilot the little craft back to the capital.

"You know, with this work, you're doing something good, Spock. Truly good."

"We are both doing good." 

She did wave him away this time. "But I was thinking of you for a reason. You're still young. You have a lot of life ahead of you."

He looked over at her. They had never spoken of this.

She smiled, the expression both proud and sad. "I like thinking that you'll go on doing good things. That you'll go on making a difference."

He reached over. "I will do them with you in mind."

She smiled, squeezed his hand. "That's nice." Then she sighed. "I'm going to get old, and you won't."

"I will age also."

"But not as much. You'll still be vital. Just like Sarek will be, even as Amanda gets older."

He did not like to think of his parents this way. Found it more unsettling for some reason than considering the same fate for him and Christine.

"I'm sorry. This is depressing on our victory day."

He shook his head. "It is the way things will be between us some day. It is good that we talk now. Because you must understand that I will never stop loving you."

"Right till the end, huh?" She smiled but the expression was off.

"Yes." He put everything he felt for her into the word.

"I love you, Spock." She leaned over and kissed him.

"I thought you were tired."

"I am. But parts of me are interested." Smiling, she touched his hair, smoothing it down in the way he found soothing. "Maybe before we sleep...?"

"If we must." He said it as if she was asking a great deal of him. Then he looked over at her.

She laughed. "We must."

"Then we will." He forced his attention back on the shuttle. It would not do to crash on their way back. It would make it very difficult to make love to her if they were dead. He opened the throttle up a little, suddenly in a hurry to get back to their rooms.

##

"You seem happy to be back on Vulcan, Christine?" Amanda looked over from her roses. 

"I am happy to be here." Christine sighed, letting out any lingering stress. She closed her eyes in the slight breeze—a breeze that blew hot and dry in the twilight. "Spock and I just spent two weeks on an icebound asteroid negotiating mining rights. Believe me, this heat feels great."

Amanda smiled. "My son seems very...happy."

Christine just smiled and was surprised when Amanda put her shears down and walked over. Laying a hand on Christine's cheek, she said softly. "Thank you."

Christine laid her hand on Amanda's. "For what?" 

"For loving him."

"I'm the one making out like a bandit. While poor Spock is stuck with me."

"You know what I mean." Amanda laughed and let her go. "Did you learn that trick from your friend Leonard? Making a joke before things get too serious?"

"Like when you realize you're carrying around your best friend's katra and it might not come out?" McCoy had been full of jokes then. Of course, he'd also been half nuts, so the humor hadn't really worked.

Amanda nodded.

"Yeah, I might have learned it from him."

"When Spock first brought you here, you weren't joking about much of anything."

"No, I wasn't." Christine laughed. "I think I have him to thank for that."

"I think so, too." Amanda went back to her roses. "How long will you two stay this time?"

"Long enough to warm up—and barely that. Starfleet wants us on Cardassia by the end of the week."

Amanda frowned. "I was hoping longer." 

"Next time we'll come back for a longer visit."

"Good." Picking up the blossoms she'd cut, Amanda walked toward the door. "Stay out here as long as you wish, dear."

Christine closed her eyes. She wouldn't stay that long. If she did, she might never leave.

##

They were just leaving the shuttle from Cardassia, when Spock sensed Christine tensing next to him. He looked over and saw that Admiral Michaelson had gotten on the spacedock lift with them. 

"Sir," Spock said evenly.

"Captain," Michaelson said, ignoring Christine.

"Ron." Her voice dipped dangerously, making two syllables out of his name.

He smiled, the look full of malice and turned away. 

Spock gave Christine credit. She waited until the young lieutenant sharing the lift had exited on a middle deck, and the lift had resumed, before saying, "Computer, hold lift, authorization Chapel Echo-Omega-Alpha-four-five-four."

The lift jerked to a halt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Michaelson said.

She didn't smile, didn't react in any way. "It's time to talk about this."

"Not in a lift."

"Why? You claustrophobic?" But she moved back, as if giving him room.

"I know you've had a lot of successes working with Captain Spock here. But that won't take it away."

She sighed, then she looked up at him. "The taint of him? Of Matthew?" She moved closer, one step, then another. "You're right. It won't. He's all over my career. He helped mold me into what I am. And you know what, Ron?" She practically spit his name at him. "He helped mold you, too. And you hate that. That you owe your career and where you are to that fact that a traitor pushed for you."

"He was scum."

"No. He wasn't." She advanced on him, and Michaelson stepped back, until he ran into the lift wall. "He was a good man. He backed the wrong cause, that's all. He hurt people, and I won't excuse that. And I don't know why he did what he did. I don't know, and I'll never know. Because he's dead, and he can't tell us why he did something so goddamned stupid as lead that conspiracy."

Michaelson started to speak, but Christine didn't let him get a word in. "He's a traitor. Matthew Cartwright is a traitor. But I will not say he was not my friend. And I will not say he was a bad man at the core, or that every other thing he did in his career meant nothing. And you can't make me. And you hate me for that."

"That's not why I hate you."

"You know, Ron." Christine smiled, and Spock was struck by how much like Jim the wolfish grin made her seem. "You need to lighten up. Take some time off." She shook her head, as if in pity. "You need to get a life. Computer, resume lift."

Then she turned back to Spock. 

"This isn't over, Chapel." Michaelson was almost sputtering.

She smiled at him sweetly. "Yes, Ron. It is. For me, it is. I'm done worrying about you. But if you want to make it your life's work to destroy me, then go ahead. I can't stop you."

Spock felt this had gone far enough. "I believe, however, that my family can."

Christine glared at him, but her hand bumped up against his, her fingers touching his. 

"Admiral," Spock said, "with all due respect, it is long past time to get a life." As the doors opened, Spock urged Christine out of the lift. "Good day, sir. May your journey be without incident." 

Christine led him to the transporter to Earth, not looking back.

"He is not following us."

"Oh, thank god. Spock, what the hell was I thinking? He could bring me up on charges."

"I do not believe he will. This will not show him in a flattering light, after all."

She seemed to be trying to take long, deep breaths. 

"Christine, it will be fine."

She nodded, but she still looked a little panicked. Then she started to laugh. "As impassioned speeches go, I think I gave Jim a run for his money."

Spock nearly smiled but caught the expression before it got out. "I would concur." 

She took another deep breath. "Let's go home, Spock."

Home. Her place, or his. He was ready for it to be theirs, for it to be just one apartment to return to. He glanced over at her, wondering when, if ever, she would be ready for that too.

##

"Here we are again, home temporary home," Sulu said, as he showed Christine her quarters. "Not that I think you'll be using these quarters much."

She smiled slightly, and Sulu grinned. 

"Is Janice using hers much these days?" She shot him a look and was happy to see him trying to keep his grin from getting much wider. "You're happy?"

He nodded.

"I'm glad."

He moved closer, touching the side of her mouth softly. "This turns up a lot more than it used to. Funny to think we have a Vulcan to thank for that."

She laughed. "The Christine Chapel of long ago would never believe how this is all going to turn out."

"No, I'm sure she wouldn't. None of us back then would believe how our lives will change."

"That's for sure." 

"Well, I'll let you sleep." Winking, Sulu walked to the door. It opened to Spock, hand raised to ring the chime. "Captain Spock."

"Captain Sulu. Am I interrupting anything?" Spock sounded a little put out, as if he thought he might be.

"Just two old friends catching up." Sulu's smile was easy, hiding nothing. 

Spock didn't look entirely convinced. "Good night, then."

"Good night." With a last smile at her, Sulu was gone.

"My. You're territorial tonight." She walked toward Spock and was surprised when he pulled her close and held her in a tight hug. "Wait a minute. Are you sniffing me?"

He let her go, his eyebrow going up. "Vulcans do have an extremely acute sense of smell."

She moved close to him again, kissing his neck. "Do you smell him on me?"

"No."

"Would you if he and I had hugged?"

"I am unsure." He gently tugged her chin up so he could kiss her lips. "But if you and he had done other things, I would most certainly know it."

"I'll keep that in mind for the future," she said with a gentle grin, hoping that he took it as a joke.

"See that you do," he said sternly, but his eyes seemed to twinkle.

"Let's see what we can do about getting your scent all over me, shall we?"

He eyed her bed. "The bed in my quarters is infinitesimally larger."

"Your place it is." She let him lead her down and across the corridor. The room was larger than hers, and it had a sitting room. The bed, however, appeared to be identical. "Spock, this isn't any bigger."

He was already pushing her down. "Yes, it is. But only slightly."

"Define slightly."

"One point two three centimeters."

"You just wanted to order me around. Drag me off to your lair and all that."

"Quite possibly." He kissed her, his tongue rough and hard.

She pulled away. "I never loved Sulu. Not that way." She stroked his face, holding him back when he would have kissed her again. 

"I am not jealous."

"Uh huh." 

He sighed. Not an almost-sigh, a hearty, slightly fed-up sigh.

"What?"

"I am weary of pretending we do not share a room. I am tired of squeezing together on small beds. If we were married, we would be assigned quarters more amenable to two people."

She grinned at him.

"Do not make fun of this, Christine."

"I'm not." She kissed him, loving the way he was handling her uniform, as if he couldn't wait to tear it from her body. Loving what he did to her once he had it off. She hoped to hell the _Excelsior_ was as soundproof as his parents' house—Spock was definitely overachieving in bringing her pleasure...and in taking his own.

When they finally lay quietly, cuddled together so that the bed wouldn't feel so small, she said, "So, you want to marry me solely for your own convenience?"

"I have other motives for wishing to formalize our union, Christine. But yes, I am finding the idea of larger accommodations to be a great incentive."

She smiled. "So this isn't to protect me?"

"Well, it is to protect you from falling off the bed." He moved slightly, causing her to rock backwards. If he hadn't been holding on, she'd have toppled off the bed.

"No need to illustrate your point, Captain. I believe you."

He almost smiled. 

"Could it be a small ceremony?"

He shot a look at her, as if shocked she was discussing it. "It could."

"I mean, virtually no ceremony. Just us and family...maybe a few friends if we're feeling daring."

"That would be acceptable."

She smiled. "No Vulcan royalty or peers or whatever you are."

"Nobility."

"Right. None of that." 

He kissed her, tightening his arm going around, as if to keep her safe from falling—ever.

She sighed. "Okay. I'll marry you." 

He nodded. "I shall inform my parents."

Kissing him, she said with a laugh, "That has to be the most unromantic proposal ever."

"As the end result was most satisfactory, I am not unduly disturbed by that."

She laughed. "I guess I'm not either."

He touched her mouth the way Sulu had and said, "You smile often now."

"You make me smile often now."

His eyes were extraordinarily tender as he said, "I am...glad."

"Yes, you look like the picture of happiness." But she knew her own eyes were soft.

"I love you," he said, his tone so sweet she wouldn't have traded him for a thousand Romeos.

"I love you, too, Spock."

He kissed her again, softly and slowly as if he was making sure she'd meant what she'd said about marrying him. Then he pulled her in close again. "I believe it would be prudent to marry as soon as possible."

"I'm sure you do."

He shot her a look—stern and not amused—but she just laughed at him. Cuddling against him, she let herself go and felt herself getting drowsy. 

"Whenever you want, Spock," she said, her voice half muffled by his chest.

"Soon."

"Okay."

She wondered if the old Christine Chapel had any idea of the hell she was in for. And the strange surprise that waited for her—Spock would love her. Spock would want to marry her. Spock would damn near badger her into marrying him.

It was too rich. Or just rich enough to make up for what she'd gone through, what she'd lost. What she'd given up, or had yanked away from her. Or never had at all—Valeris had brought them together. Christine didn't hate the woman anymore, couldn't hate her, not when she had Spock now because she'd had Valeris first.

Sighing, she turned her head so she could kiss Spock's neck, under his chin. He reached over and stroked her cheek, softly. 

"Thank you for rescuing me." She didn't mean just from the detention center.

She could tell he understood. "You rescued me as well," he said. "I was...floundering."

"You didn't look like you were floundering."

"Nevertheless, I was." He moved so he was on his side, pulled her in closer, his arm and leg wrapping around her, pulling her as close as she could be. "Rescuing you saved us both."

"I'm glad." She kissed him.

"As am I." He rubbed his nose gently against hers, a strangely sweet gesture, one that brought a lump to her throat. 

She nestled more comfortably against him then let herself relax in his arms, secure and protected—not that she needed protection anymore. 

But it was nice to know it was there if she did.

FIN


End file.
